The Promise Of Hope
by Cheburashka1
Summary: Brian and Justin's journey towards a new relationship after reconnecting in London after a dozen years apart. An attempt at a sequel to "Persistence Of Memory".
1. Prologue

**The Promise Of Hope**

**Prologue **

**Early August 2018...**

_Keeley Hope Taylor..._

The movie was over and I was hungry. I haven't had a thing since breakfast and my stomach grumbled angrily. It was definitely time for lunch. I put the movie away and kissed the picture of my family on the coffee table just as I always do and went to look for Daddy. I remembered him telling me something a few minutes before, but I wasn't paying attention and forgot. I mean Simba was telling Scar to leave Pride Rock and there was the big battle, so it was hard to pay attention to anything else, really.

I went to the kitchen, but Daddy wasn't there. I ran upstairs, but he wasn't in the studio or in his bedroom. I looked all over the house, but he was nowhere to be found. I opened the front door and there he was.

"Daddy! There you are, I was looking everywhere for you!" I cried and ran down to meet him on the sidewalk.

I grabbed his hand and noticed that he was talking to a man who held the SOLD sign from the house next door. The man was tall and really pretty, even though he was older, and had the kindest eyes. He looked kind of sad at first, but then he looked at me and smiled. It was a very nice smile, though not as beautiful as Daddy's and not as cheerful as Da's smile had been. When this man smiled, the way he sort of rolled in his lips a little, it looked mischievous, like he was thinking of a joke the whole time, but in a fun way, not in a mean one.

"Hello! Are you our new neighbor? How do you do?" I asked.

He smiled again, but wider this time and I realized that I liked his smile very much. Then Daddy told me that this man was indeed our new neighbor and an old friend of his from Pittsburgh, a magical place in the United States where Daddy grew up. While I was looking at Daddy's old friend Mr. Kinney, Daddy was introducing me to him. I liked his name – Mr. Brian Kinney. It sounded Irish, like my Da's name was Irish, like my Da's mom is Irish and like some of the people I met when we visited my grandparents in Dublin.

"Keeley is Irish, Mr. Kinney. It means 'brave warrior'!" I don't know why, but I just had to tell him I had an Irish name too. Then I realized that my first name and his last name sounded similar and I thought it was kind of funny. I think he thought it was funny too because he smiled again and asked,

"Does it? And are you?" I saw him look at Daddy and, suddenly, Daddy smiled like he used to a long time ago, like he was really, really happy. I've missed that smile so very much, almost as much as I missed my Da.

"Yes, sir!" I answered, "Absolutely!" I hoped that it would make Daddy happy and it did, it really did, because he smiled even wider, his eyes were sparkling like Christmas lights and then he laughed.

"Well, with me as her father, she'd have to be." Daddy said.

I didn't understand exactly what he meant, but I think it was kind of a joke because then Mr. Kinney laughed too and it was a really, really happy sound. Mr. Kinney looked older than Daddy and even older than my Da was before he died, but when he laughed he looked really young and kind of reminded me of Da a little, him being so tall and dark haired.

I looked at them laughing and thought that they must have been really good friends, though I've never ever met or heard of Mr. Kinney before. But then, Daddy hardly ever talks about Pittsburgh.

I've never been to Pittsburgh, though I've always wanted to go. Grandma Jen told me lots of stories from when Daddy was a little boy and I've always wanted to see everything she talked about. Da grew up in London, so I've seen all the places where he grew up. I've even been to Ireland, where Grandma Niamh was born, though she only lived there as a very little girl before moving to London. Grandpa Paul and Grandma Niamh moved to Dublin when I was three because of Grandpa Paul's work and ever since then we've been spending three weeks there in the summer.

Grandpa Paul was English and grew up in London, so I've been everywhere that my Da and all his relatives had ever been, but I've only been to the United States once. We all went to one of Daddy's art shows in New York a few months before Da died. I loved New York – it was so big, so exciting, so busy, so loud and a little bit scary. Unfortunately, Daddy only lived there for a year and not as a little boy, so it didn't feel like his place at all. Every time I asked Daddy to take me to Pittsburgh, he always said "someday" and it always seemed like he didn't like talking about his home town. Everything I know about Daddy as a little boy or even when he got older came from Grandma Jen, Aunt Molly and Auntie Daphne, who's his best friend in the entire world. They are the ones who told me about a magical place called Pittsburgh that I've always wanted to visit so very much.

"_Maybe Mr. Kinney knows more stories about Daddy when he lived in Pittsburgh?" _I thought and that idea got me really excited. _"Maybe he can tell me lots of new things."_

Then my stomach rumbled really loudly and that made Daddy and Mr. Kinney laugh out loud again. Normally, I would have been embarrassed, but this time I was actually happy that it happened and that it was time for lunch.

"Mr. Kinney, would you like to have lunch with us?" I asked as politely as possible. I wanted to make Daddy proud and make a good impression on his old friend. "We are having sandwiches, crisps and apple slices for dessert." I told him hopefully. He looked really surprised and uncertain, then he looked at Daddy with one eyebrow raised like a question mark. Daddy suddenly stopped smiling and looked kind of uncertain too.

"If you are worried about making another sandwich, Daddy, don't worry, cause I'll help you. I'll even share my crisps, if we don't have enough." I said eagerly and made Daddy smile again, which made me really happy. "You can even make coffee, if you want, Daddy. See, Mr. Kinney, Daddy and I usually have tea together, but I know he likes coffee so much better. But since I am not old enough to drink it, he always drinks tea instead. But, if we have a guest, he won't feel bad about not drinking tea with me and the two of you can have coffee."

"So, what you are saying is that if I come to lunch and have sandwiches, apple slices and - what were they? - crisps, your Daddy will be able to have coffee without feeling bad? So, I'll be doing you a favor then?" Mr. Kinney said smiling, then he rolled his lips again in that funny way, like he was thinking of a joke or something.

"Yes! Exactly!" I said, waiting anxiously for his reply. I really hoped he'd come to lunch and tell me more stories about Daddy in Pittsburgh.

"Well, Sunshine?" he said and I was really confused because I thought he was talking to me, but he was actually looking at Daddy.

"You are welcome to join us for lunch, Brian. It seems Keeley is determined to feed you and ply you with coffee." He answered and smiled again.

"OK, then." Mr. Kinney said and looked at me again. "I will gladly accept your kind invitation, Miss Taylor. Thank you." He said really formally, like I was a real lady, though he was smiling his crazy smile again. I knew he thought that I was funny, but for some reason I was sure he wasn't making fun of me or being mean at all. Then he winked wickedly and said, "But since I am doing you a favor, you have to do one for me too."

"What kind of a favor?" I asked curiously.

"You have to stop calling me Mr. Kinney. It makes me feel about a hundred years old and makes me think of my ol..." but then he suddenly stopped and after a brief sigh continued, "I would prefer it if you called me Brian, as a favor to me."

I looked at Daddy and he had a strange expression on his face, but then it was gone, he smiled a little and nodded his approval. My dads always taught me to be polite, especially to older people and especially when meeting someone new for the very first time. They usually didn't allow me to call their friends or co-workers by their first name, unless they were a part of our family, so I was surprised when Daddy agreed. I thought it would be weird to call someone as old as Mr. Kinney Brian, but then I remembered that he was an old friend of Daddy's from Pittsburgh and our new neighbor to boot, so it wasn't as if he was a total stranger.

I looked at Daddy and at Mr. Kinn...Brian, but they weren't moving for some reason. They just kept standing there on the sidewalk, looking at each other and smiling. My stomach rumbled again and reminded me how hungry I was. So, I let go of Daddy's hand, walked up to Mr. Kinn... I mean, Brian and grabbed his hand. Mr. K... I mean, Brian, was surprised and his his hand tightened over mine right away. He had a large hand, larger than Daddy's and larger than Da's, but it was thin, with what grandma Jen would call elegant fingers. His hand was also very, very warm and strong, but kind of soft too. I liked his hand, so I smiled at his still surprised face, tugged his arm in the direction of our house and said,

"Come on, Mr. Brian...I mean, Brian. I am really, really hungry, we should eat!"

* * *

><p>Disclaimer: All belongs to CowLip and Showtime! No infringement intended.<p>

A/N: Here's he prologue to the sequel to "Persistence of Memory". Please do let me know what you think, my gentle readers! Thank you!


	2. Life of Brian

**The Promise of Hope**

**Chapter 1: **

**Life of Brian**

Brian stayed his first night in London at the Savoy. He deliberately didn't go to his new house as soon as he arrived, partly because the place had not a stick of furniture in it and partly (and more importantly) because he knew he'd be tempted to knock on Justin's door and announce his presence regardless of how tired and jet lagged he looked and felt. Unfortunately, now that he was in the same country, in the same city and less then ten miles away, all his thoughts and every fiber of his being strained towards the row house on Agnes Road in Acton, a district in west London where Justin Taylor and his daughter lived, and where his new home next door to the Taylors awaited.

Brian did his best to put those thoughts away for the night, since he planned on moving into his new "humble abode" the very next day. Instead, he concentrated on his gorgeous surroundings and on his immediate needs of food and rest.

Brian loved the Savoy. His elegantly appointed suite bespoke of supreme comfort and ultimate luxury, but in an almost understated, dignified way that has always struck Brian to be very English. He ordered a simple dinner from room service, which was his usual fare of protein and vegetables, sans fat or carbs, and a snifter of Jim Beam. When Gus was barely 10 years old he insisted that Brian stop drinking and smoking completely. By that point, Brian no longer used drugs other than the very occasional joint, of which Gus knew nothing about. No matter how Gus pleaded with him, Brian refused to go completely cold turkey on alcohol and tobacco, but he agreed to a compromise with his son. He promised Gus no more than one drink a day and only one cigarette. The only time Brian broke that promise was the day he found out that Justin got married and got completely fucking shit-faced. After that unfortunate episode he went back to his one drink only rule and has since kept the promise he gave to his son.

* * *

><p>His dinner finished, Brian lit his one cigarette, got his one snifter of Jim Beam and began to enjoy the last vestiges of his former vices while looking at the beautiful view of the River Thames and the Waterloo Bridge from his private balcony. The balmy August night, the gentle breeze coming off the river, the relative quiet, the gorgeous view, the scent of cigarette smoke in his nostrils and the familiar taste of Beam on his tongue enveloped him in comfort and complete contentment. He finished his cigarette and his drink, but stayed on the balcony calmly enjoying the night, until his thoughts went back to the house on Agnes Road, to Justin and to his daughter, whose name he still didn't know. As soon as those thoughts intruded, his anxiety resurfaced and he desperately wished for another cigarette and another shot of Beam. But a promise was a promise, so instead of indulging his cravings he called room service and ordered a pot of tea, smirking at himself for humoring his sudden, uncharacteristic desire to follow the "when in Rome..." custom.<p>

Brian could hardly recognize himself and he truly wasn't sure whether he liked or hated his new self that emerged out of nowhere over the last three months ever since that conversation with Gus that had changed the course of his life forever. He hated feeling nervous, out of sorts, overly emotional and totally unsure of himself, like a teenage girl with a first crush, but that's precisely how he felt about seeing Justin again. The idea of trying to rekindle something between them again after all this time scared him shitless even as it excited him at the same time. These conflicting emotions made him feel like he has lost his equilibrium, a state of being that was anathema to him. Unfortunately that feeling refused to go away no matter how hard he tried to banish it. It proved to be an impossible feat, especially without the aid of copious amounts of liquor, drugs and anonymous sex. On the other hand, as much as his new "emotionally honest" self sometimes made him feel like a lesbian, he admitted that for the first time in a long time, probably in over a decade, he felt freer, calmer, less burdened...even happier. He realized that he actually liked that side of himself; something he understood has always been a part of him, just suppressed and buried under years of self-denial.

The first few years after that argument at Deb's, after Justin left for the last time, Brian couldn't help but think of his ex-fiance often. But over the last seven years, _not_ thinking of Justin became almost a second job ever since Brian found out that his ex married a Daniel Fletcher from some gallery in London. He allowed himself to freely think about Justin, their former life together and to peruse his meager mementos from that time only once a month. It was both painful and cathartic, and was a necessity in his life that he couldn't explain even to himself.

Over the last three months, though, it was like the floodgates have opened and he could think of nothing but Justin seemingly every waking moment of his day. He couldn't concentrate on his work at Kinnetik, having to deal with Babylon started to grate on his nerves and being at the loft was emotionally exhausting because memories of him and Justin played like a kaleidoscope in his mind every time he set foot there. The only time when he could think and concentrate on anything else at all was when he was with Gus, his girlfriend Sunny and the rest of the family.

* * *

><p>Brian's introspection was interrupted by room service delivery bringing him the requested pot of Earl Grey. The waiter collected his used dinner plates and left sporting a huge smile on his face after pocketing a very generous tip from Brian. Brian went back to the balcony with his tea, this thoughts turning to his unconventional Pittsburgh family and their reunion last spring.<p>

Brian realized that he would be forever grateful to his son for forcing him and the rest of the family to face the past, deal with it and with each other again, for bringing the family back together better, stronger and closer than ever. Brian thought back on that first Sunday family dinner with amusement and with an undeniable, though slightly embarrassing, warm glow in his heart. Carl confessed to Brian that Deb was beside herself with happiness after Brian's phone call. She cried for an hour and then proceeded to clean the house from top to bottom, made him go to the grocery store with a list as long as his arm and then spent most of the night cooking because she couldn't sleep.

When Brian showed up on time at six o'clock that Sunday, everyone was already there, sitting around the living room somewhat stiffly and nervously. Brian cracked a couple of crude jokes, trying to break the ice. Ted, thankfully, decided to let his incredibly rare sarcastic wit run wild surprising everyone and reducing Blake (and to everyone's astonishment, Brian) into bouts of uncontrollable laughter. Mikey, growing a pair of balls all of a sudden, picked up the inappropriate banter and continued, earning himself a slap upside the head from Debbie, who didn't know whether to laugh or cry. That gesture made everyone in the room burst out laughing and not five minutes later pandemonium broke out as everyone was suddenly on their feet, hugging and kissing Brian and each other. Everyone was talking to him and to each other all at once; everyone seemed to be either laughing or crying, and generally acting as if they haven't seen him or anyone else in the family in years. The smorgasbord of emotion flying around that living room were overwhelming and threatened to become too much and not just for Brian. He remembered feeling so overloaded that he was looking for any excuse to go outside to get some air without being a total jerk, when his son came to his rescue yet again by loudly demanding food. Suddenly, everyone was ravenous and fell on Debbie's lasagnas (yes, she made three), antipasti platters, salads and then desserts (yes, she made several of each) with enthusiasm. For about fifteen minutes the only sounds heard were those of clinking silverware, chewing, sipping, contented sighing and occasional hiccups from Debbie and Emmett, who were struggling with tears throughout the meal.

Pretty soon, though, the comfort of food and wine (soda for Gus and Sunny) made everyone relax; conversation began to flow and the last twelve years of tension, guilt, sadness and fear just dissipated into nothing. It felt like old times, especially after Ben, who was finishing the last leg of his book tour, called Mikey and talked to everyone over his cell phone speaker. The ever resourceful Gus unbeknownst to everyone, contacted Hunter, who was on a dig in Egypt, via email the night before. He explained the impromptu reunion to him and prearranged a time for a quick Skype session, so the entire party was able to say hello to Hunter and his girlfriend, Josie, a fellow archaeologist. The call from Mel was even more of a surprise and a quick conversation with JR reduced Michael, who hasn't seen his daughter in about six months, into a quivering mess of snot and happy tears. Gus was on cloud nine and grinned from ear to ear that entire evening.

After that dinner Brian felt happier, freer and more hopeful about his future than he had in years and he had Gus to thank for it. Brian knew that mending the rift between the members of his chosen family would take more than one Sunday dinner at Deb's, but it was a heck of a good start.

Over the next few days after that dinner, Brian met with everyone individually to talk about that awful night 12 years ago. They were difficult, sometimes painful conversations, but they were necessary, like lancing pus out of a festering wound. Then one Sunday night they talked about it all together. In the end, Brian let everyone know that the past was forgiven and forgotten, at least on his side and that he hoped they'd do the same for him. Since his conversation with Gus, Brian realized that he was far from blameless and that he needed his family's forgiveness just as much as they needed his.

The end result was that after that week Sunday dinners at Deb's resumed, as did the breakfasts at the Liberty diner a couple of times a week. The family was coming together again, little by little, over preparations for Gus and Sunny's graduation from high school, over many discussions of their plans to go to England together, over Sunny's college plans, Gus's work plans, their living arrangements and eventually over Brian's shocking decision to sell everything and move to London to pursue Justin.

The family also grew in number after meeting Margaret and Ronald North. One Sunday, just a couple of weeks after that first family reunion, Sunny's parents were invited to dinner and Brian was amazed at how quickly and easily they were "assimilated" into the family fold. The Norths were incredibly down-to-earth people, despite their affluent background and despite both being research scientists with PhD's behind their name. They got along famously with every single member of Brian's unconventional family, finding something in common with everyone. Since they wanted to spend as much time as possible with Sunny before she and Gus left for England and because they agreed with Brian that supporting the kids was better than alienating them, they chose to join forces with Brian and the family in all their graduation and moving plans. Since the night they met everyone at Deb's, they haven't missed a single Sunday dinner and were treated as part of the family, rather than as guests.

Brian, however, was the most surprised at how much he liked Sunny's parents and at the easy, immediate rapport that developed between them due to their mutual love, pride and worry over their only children. To Brian's enormous pleasure, Ron and Meg North had a wicked sense of humor and the three parents enjoyed making gentle fun of the the young couple that was so determined to stay together after high-school no matter what.

* * *

><p>Brian's thoughts were interrupted yet again by the roar of a siren from some type of emergency vehicle driving through nearby and then almost immediately by a ringing telephone in his suite. It turned out it was the concierge, inquiring Brian whether everything was to his satisfaction, whether he required turn-down service, whether he needed anything else from room service either tonight or at breakfast tomorrow, and whether he would like a wake-up call. Brian has stayed at this historic hotel before and the impeccable customer service was one of the reasons why he loved the Savoy and wanted to stay here again. Brian declined the turn-down service, but requested both the wake-up call and the breakfast to be delivered to his suite in the morning.<p>

Brian hung up and thought about staying on the balcony for a little while longer, but jet lag suddenly caught up with him and he got ready for bed instead. Unfortunately, thoughts of Justin intruded again.

"_What is he doing?"_ Brian wondered, _"Painting? Drawing? Reading? Getting his daughter ready for bed?"_

He looked at the clock and it was barely 10 pm – extremely early for Brian to be in bed, but he was tired. 10 pm, however, seemed too late for a six-year-old to still be up, so he thought that Justin's daughter was probably already asleep.

"_What about Justin?" _Brian thought, _"Is he sleeping already? Is he lying awake in bed just like me? What if he's with someone – got a babysitter and he's out somewhere, doing something or someone? Fuck! This is ridiculous! I am being ridiculous!" _He admonished himself for his decidedly lesbianic thoughts and turned on the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall opposite the bed.

He channel surfed for a few minutes, until one of Kinnetik's commercials playing on BBC Three effectively distracted him from his thoughts. It was the last campaign he worked on before selling the company. The up and coming British cosmetics company wanted to get into the American market five years ago and Brian won the account. He worked on that campaign himself from the ground up, something he rarely did by that point as CEO of Kinnetik. The campaign was so successful, that two years later the company expanded their contract with Brian's firm to include all of their advertising and marketing needs both in Europe and in the US. This particular advert was introducing a brand new line of beauty products and Brian was damned proud of it. He watched the commercial with a smile on his face and, somewhat surprisingly, he did not feel even a smidgen of regret for selling Kinnetik. He realized that no matter how things turned out between Justin and him - though he was hoping and praying for good things on that front - he was eager to begin a brand new chapter in his life. As a whole, the unknown future looming in front of him didn't scare him in the slightest; instead, it excited him and made him impatient for the start of a new day.

After the commercial ended, Brian didn't change the channel. He kept watching BBC Three and fell asleep in the midst of trying to figure out what in the hell was going on in the insane world of the soap opera called _EastEnders_.

* * *

><p>Morning came all too soon. Brian woke up refreshed, though he felt like he slept for barely five minutes. After showering and eating an egg-white omlette for breakfast he made a few calls – one to the US to talk to Gus and another to the furniture store in London that was arranging delivery to his new house at noon that day. He checked out of the Savoy and went to Bond street to substantially supplement his wardrobe. Brian packed only one small bag for his flight to London. To everyone's amusement he decided that a brand new wardrobe - purchased only in the best shops in London, of course – was a necessity for starting his new life. Therefore, he got rid of half the stuff in his closet at Britin and decided to leave the rest hanging in the closet for whenever he returned to the US.<p>

After three hours of shopping and doing his best to single-handedly keep the British economy going, he arranged to have all his clothes delivered to his house in Acton and hastily hailed a cab; it was getting dangerously close to noon and he didn't want to miss the delivery truck with the first batch of his new furniture.

Twenty minutes later he was standing in front of his new house. He decided that he liked the red brick accents on the bay windows and the arched doorway in person, just as much as he did in the photos and the little video that the estate agent had sent him. He noticed that the SOLD sign was still attached to the gate and he decided to remove it as soon as possible. His gaze strayed to the house adjacent to his and he wondered whether Justin was inside it at that very moment or elsewhere. He was tempted to walk up and knock on the door, when the delivery truck he was expecting rumbled up the street and for the next thirty minutes or so he was busy directing the movers around his new house.

As soon as they left, thanking him profusely for a generous tip, Brian's first thought was of the occupants next door. He put his ear to the wall they shared in the hope of hearing some sort of sign of life, but either no one next door was home or the wall was exceptionally thick, for he couldn't hear a sound.

"_Oh, my fucking God,"_ he thought and ruefully shook his head, _"I am acting like a teenage girl! If I want to know for sure whether Justin's home, I need to grow a pair and just go next door and fucking knock already!"_

He decisively walked out of his house with the full intention of knocking on Justin's door, when the SOLD sign on his gate began to seriously bother him. He decided to remove it before doing anything else and used it as a handy excuse to justify his hesitation and sudden nerves. Five minutes later he was cursing himself, the gate, the sign and the estate agent because the damned sign seemed to be welded to the gate and was refusing to be removed. At this point though, removing the thing has become a mission and Brian couldn't stop until he accomplished this task, no matter how silly or OCD it was.

He was bent over the gate, wrestling with the last latch with which the sign was attached to the gate and so preoccupied that he didn't hear the door open behind him, or the light footsteps on the short flight of stairs or the small path that led to the sidewalk. He was finally getting the sign free and was beginning to feel quite triumphant.

"_Take that, you cardboard bastard!"_ he thought jubilantly as soon as his gate was sign-free and just as the gate directly behind him opened quietly.

Brian didn't hear him at all, but he felt him. His body stilled in an instant and every cell in his body began to hum in awareness. He slowly stood up straight, turned around, his little war with the sign completely forgotten, and feasted his eyes on the man who was the love of his life.

"_Finally..."_ he thought, _"there he is. Please, say something!" _he pleaded silently.

"What are you doing here?" Justin uttered in a shocked whisper. To Brian it was the best sound in the whole fucking world.

"Moving in." he answered in return.

* * *

><p>AN: My gentle readers, here's the first chapter of the story. It's a bit on the introspective side from Brian's POV. I hope you'll like it. Please do let me know what you think!

Thank you!


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